Chapter 6

  Broken Flight

  Annalynn ached all over. First Zev had tried to blow her up, then Roger had melted the forest. Her arms throbbed from the blisters, her wrist most likely broken. But she was alive.

  “Boss, do you need Sarsha?” Roger asked. He was trained in combat first aid, but anything more advanced would need the doctor. His eyes scanned her head to toe.

  “I don’t think so. I wasn’t shot. Zev missed too.” As she said it, her hair flashed pink before settling on a dark green. “If you don’t see anything of concern, help me up.”

  Roger finished his visual exam and stood. “Zara, over here,” he called, waving.

  Out of the treeline floated a small black hovercraft, about three feet wide, its nose slanted down in front. The sides were still smoking from the plasma emitters. Zara sat behind the controls, a wide smile on her face.

  “What the hell!” Zev roared. “You brought that thing out?” He jabbed a finger at the craft. “The power supply’s unstable — it could surge and explode. And you mounted plasma cannons on it!” His whole frame trembled with rage.

  Instead of shrinking, Zara sat up straighter and met his glare. “Annalynn needed help. I stabilized the power source.” She faltered, just a little. “At least for now.” Then her chin snapped up again. “We saved you.”

  By the time she finished, Zev was already at the buggy. He yanked the hood release and the nose tipped open, revealing a mess of wires and coils. One glance was enough. He reached in, ripped a lead free, and the craft slammed to the ground.

  “You bypassed the regulator and fed power straight into the capacitor,” he growled. His eyes were hard, his voice ragged with anger and fear. “Were you planning on using this as a bomb?”

  Zara didn’t hold back. “I know what I did! I was managing the power levels just fine.” She was almost as loud as he was. “I put it on the ground before firing the cannons. What was I supposed to do—let you and Annalynn die?” Tears streaked down her face.

  “Zev, enough.” Annalynn’s tone was sharp, her command cutting off any reply. She leaned heavily on Roger. “What’s done is done. Will the buggy make it back to the ship?” Together they started toward it.

  Jaw tight, Zev reached into the open compartment. He tugged wires, reconnected coils. After a moment the craft hummed and lifted into the air again. His breathing was ragged, every movement clipped and sharp.

  The pain was building, her vision narrowing. Roger felt her falter and shifted his hold. Without a word, he scooped her up, one arm under her legs, the other bracing her shoulders.

  “Zev, we need to move,” he said as he set Annalynn beside Zara.

  “No. You two stay here—find where those guys came from. Zara will get me back.” Annalynn reached out, her hand trembling as it patted Zara’s shoulder.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  “Annalynn…” Roger never used her first name. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We don’t know if there are more back at the ship.”

  “What we don’t know outweighs what we do.” Her voice was low but firm, her hair fading from red to black. “We need to get into space—fast. Strip that ship of anything useful. Find where those men came from. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” both men answered in unison. They knew how to follow orders. This wasn’t the first time she’d given them.

  “Zara, make best speed, please,” Annalynn said, settling into the seat.

  “Yes, ma’am. Best speed possible—if Zev didn’t sabotage us.” With that, Zara gunned the buggy and drove off toward the Wrath.

  The ride was surprisingly smooth. Annalynn was thankful for that. Her whole body ached, her head throbbed. She didn’t remember hitting it, but the shockwave from Zev’s railgun could have caused a concussion. She needed to see Sarsha sooner rather than later.

  “Zara,” she murmured, “thank you for coming for me.”

  “I did what any of the crew would. We always go when needed.” Pride radiated in her voice.

  “Was Zev right? Was this thing about to explode?” Annalynn’s tone was soft, warm. She wasn’t judging Zara.

  “Kinda. I mean, yes, it could have. If I’d tried to run the plasma cannons and the hover at the same time, then yeah—the power core would’ve overheated. That doesn’t mean it would have exploded.” Zara’s eyes dropped at the last words.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but a core that overheats either catches fire and explodes… or just explodes.” Annalynn held up a hand, her voice steady. “I’m just a combat pilot—you’re the tech kid.” Her hair flashed pink, then black, so quickly Zara might not have noticed.

  They rode in silence for a while. Zara kept sneaking glances at Annalynn, thinking she wasn’t noticed.

  “Eyes of the tree, little one.” Annalynn only used that name when she wanted to tease her. She let her hair flow freely, colors blending like waves on a shore.

  “You’re not much taller than me,” Zara pouted back. It was true—she was five inches shorter than Annalynn and at least fifty pounds lighter. Where Annalynn was built solid from years of training, Zara’s frame was wiry, almost gymnast-like. She and Zev sat at opposite ends of the physical spectrum.

  Annalynn’s headache wasn’t getting better. The world seemed to tilt more with each passing minute, her vision narrowing. She focused on her breathing—in through the nose, out through the mouth. She didn’t notice the repulsor’s rising whine.

  “Annalynn, we have a problem,” Zara squeaked. “The repulsor drive is going to die.”

  “Can anything be done?” Annalynn’s response was sluggish, her words slow.

  “We could ditch the cannons. That would take some stress off.”

  “Do it.”

  Zara slammed buttons. A heavy thud jolted the buggy, and the whine dropped to a steady hum. With the weight gone, she pushed the craft faster.

  Annalynn barely registered it. She thought she heard Zara talking, but the words didn’t make sense.

  “Yes, she is. No—soon as we can. Roger.”

  Blackness crept in, swallowing her.

  There was a heavy thump, and then the sun vanished. Annalynn felt a sharp sting in her arm, then hands dragging her out of the buggy. A cool cloth pressed over her eyes as she was lowered onto something solid. Voices murmured above her, but she couldn’t make out the words.

  The hard thing she laid on jolted and bounced, slamming into things. Each impact threatened to bring up her stomach contents. Whatever was happening ended with a final shift.

  Whatever she laid on was softer. Heat pressed in from the room, and a harsh light burned above her.

  “Annalynn, I need you to hold still for me, okay?” A soft voice drifted close — familiar, remembered. She clung to the words. Hold still. Hold still. Why was she holding still?

  The voice again: “This is going to hurt. I need you to be still.”

  Hurt? What did—

  The pain hit like a drill through her skull. Her whole body tensed. She started to raise her arms and legs, then remembered: hold still.

  There was something in that voice that anchored her, that told her she was safe. Everything would be fine. All she had to do was hold still.

  She fought the pain. Pain was memory, not master. She had conquered it before; she would again.

  “Zara, I need the skin laser—over there,” Sarsha said.

  The pain was fading. Annalynn knew she was in sickbay, back on the ship. How had she gotten here? Where was the rest of the crew?

  And why, of all things… where were her pants?